Bella scattered away to Jamie's bedroom, where she spent two minutes trying to decide whether or not to actually change the sheets. He'd not taken well to the other changes, but his bed sheets—which were supposed to be white—were tinted brown from weeks (potentially even months!) of dirt build-up. Finally deciding to change them, she used her wand for most of the work, determining it to be both the quickest and cleanest means.

Then, glancing out the doorway to make sure Jamie wasn't there, she discarded her own stained dress and slipped on the replacement she'd brought with her, the sound of the whining pups all the while filling the room. She would gather her things, say goodbye to the pups and Jamie, and then run back home before he could find something to yell at her about. Perhaps an additional week free from her presence would suffice as an apology.

With her things gathered up and the pups kissed goodbye, Bella hesitantly moved through the shack and towards the kitchen, the floor creaking under each footstep. She approached Jamie from behind, making an effort to make enough noise with each movement so he wouldn't be spooked. (The last thing she needed was him tossing food in her direction.) She touched his arm gently, looked down at him, and stifled a laugh at the realization that more than half the plate of food was already gone. Was there a masculine stereotype that he didn't fit?

"I'm going home. I'll—see you soon, I suppose," she said with a soft, almost sad smile.

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